


Once

by cruisedirector



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Camping, F/M, Falling In Love, Female Character In Command, First Time, Marriage Proposal, POV First Person, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2000-12-23
Updated: 2000-12-23
Packaged: 2017-10-05 02:26:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/36794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cruisedirector/pseuds/cruisedirector
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The inevitable one-time "this never happened" J/C scenario.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Once

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mamadracula](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mamadracula/gifts).



> Warning: dripping sap alert. Yes, even worse than usual -- the L word and the M word and everything. You know who they are, you know who I am, you know who owns them--if any of the above bugs you, don't read it.

Tonight.

Just tonight. That's the deal. Not that we talked about it. We never officially agreed on anything.

We've been in orbit for four days. Kathryn's been on leave for the past ten hours, I've got the bridge. In the morning, she's supposed to take the bridge, while I get a day's leave.

Of course, it wasn't an accident that I gave myself and her overlapping hours off the ship. I expected Tuvok to call me on it, but he didn't say one word when I showed him the schedule. Maybe he was playing it safe--maybe he thought it was what she wanted. Maybe the fact that she didn't change it was reason enough for his acceptance.

Really, I'm the easiest person on the ship for her to sshare this kind of secret with. She's supposed to tell me how to reach her at all times, where she's going, who she's with. Maybe that's why she decided I'm the one. Better if one crew member knows that she's human than if all of them do, right? I'm not in the mood to second-guess her reasoning. I don't even care right now if one night is all she ever gives me. At this moment, I just want it to be tonight.

I shiver with anticipation, and Tom glances back at me. He's also off-duty this evening, and has made much less of a secret of his plans: he and B'Elanna are beaming down to the gorgeous cliffs overlooking the ocean, and going climbing. That is, they're going climbing in the morning, when the sun's up. Nobody asked them what they're doing tonight. Nobody needed to.

Does Tom know what I'm planning? If he does, he keeps his face neutral. No smirk, no wink like I would have gotten at one time. If he knows, then he knows she must be desperate to admit she needs this at all. The ones who've figured it out will protect our secret.

She broached the subject theoretically, sitting in her ready room, as we made plans for shore leave for the crew. Two days of highly successful negotiations, some trading, the ship restocked. Invitation for vacation on the planet, accepted. She told me to put together a schedule, and to make sure to include myself.

"What about you?" I asked.

She looked as if she'd decline, caught my expression, and nodded instead. "Thirty-six hours. One duty shift," she agreed.

I sent her off-ship in the evening, to make sure she'd have one good night's sleep. Then a day to herself on the planet. She's beaming back tomorrow morning. I'm beaming down tonight.

When she realized what I'd done, she told me where she was planning to be--of course, she would have told me anyway. As far away from the crew as possible, deep in the forest. I told her I didn't know if that was a good idea--that maybe she should be around people when she had the opportunity to relax. "I won't relax around them, I'll feel like I have to be the captain. If I'm by myself, that far away, I'll be able to relax." Then she looked right at me. "I bet you'd find it very relaxing. Maybe you should come there, too."

"Like New Earth," I said neutrally. Because I had to make sure.

"Like New Earth," she agreed.

Tonight.

****

The endless bridge shift ends.

I turn command over to Tuvok. Tom's already gone, I let him off early. We don't need a pilot just to maintain orbit. It takes me ten minutes to walk to my quarters, grab my things, and head for transporter room one.

I beam down in civilian clothes. I take my own tent, a sleeping bag, a pillow, just in case. My medicine bundle, for tomorrow, when I'm alone. Some clothing, some food. Some coffee, replicated, for her. Swim trunks. A towel. Another towel. Soap.

After a brief period of debate with myself, I also bring her a rose.

****

She's waiting for me.

Sitting on a tree stump, by the water but not looking at the water. Arms crossed over her knees, chin on her wrist.

"I wasn't sure you were coming," she says.

"I wasn't sure you wanted me."

As I get closer, any lingering doubts scatter. I hand her the flower, which she presses to her nose and lips, then tucks behind her ear along with some of her hair. She's left it down, loose. Her body, though, is taut as wire, on the verge of snapping. She must have been waiting for me for quite some time.

"I might have come even if I thought you didn't want me," I tell her softly. Her lip quivers a little.

"I've been off the ship for hours. It's amazing. Once I stopped thinking like the captain, I started not to be able to think like the captain. I forgot how hard it was, after New Earth."

"Were you lonely?"

"No. I needed to be alone. I was fine, until I thought you weren't coming."

"What have you been doing all day?"

"Thinking." She uncoils her body, stands up, and kisses me. A long, passionate kiss which I respond to instantly, trying not to pressure her, wanting to devour her.

When we come up for air, she says, "You understand that this is...just tonight. I can't make any promises. We're on leave. As soon as we..."

"I understand," I agree. Sealed with thumbprint and retina scan. And another kiss. We can talk about it later. The flower falls from her hair, forgotten, to the ground.

****

Inside her tent, I wish we weren't both frantic and could take our time this first time. But I've been burning for months, and if she's been thinking about this all day without the crew around to keep her fantasies in check--we're both so fired up that it wouldn't surprise me if we ruined everything rushing. My stamina's not what it used to be, I'm not sure I can do this four times in eight hours. I have no idea what she has in mind. I never dreamed she'd be this aggressive, she's so hungry for it, not even bothering to get fully undressed, pulling on my hands.

God, she's ready, and so am I. I joyfully give her what she demands, I spread her out and press into her, taking her moans as cues. There's an instant of pure, soul-searing magic as we join, eyes locked in communion. Then she shudders around me, and my body takes over. I hold back as much as I can, rub and stroke her until she nearly screams, till I can feel the contractions clenching around me while her body thrashes. That breaks my control, I let myself thrust hard a few times before I can't take anymore and shoot into her heat, howling half her name. She holds me inside her, arms around my shoulders and legs wrapped around my thighs, long after I've started to go limp and worry that my weight is making her uncomfortable.

I'm torn between wanting to do it all again and wanting to talk to her, or just curl into a ball with her and keep her while she rests. If only there were more time. If we make love all night, I might never get to do that--sleep beside her, wake to her voice murmuring my name. We both need the physical connection of sex, but I want the rest--I want to give her everything she wouldn't take from me before, even if it's not for keeps, even if she doesn't want it by morning.

"Damn," she whispers. "I thought I could do this and not start falling in love."

"I was already in love. I thought maybe you were, too."

"I loved you. But there's a difference."

"What now?"

"Let's go roast marshmallows." Her voice warms with mischief, and she kisses my nose when I pull back to stare at her. Unexpectedly, it's the sexiest thing she's said to me yet. I'm already anticipating coming back inside when we crawl out the tent flap together.

****

Outside, it's night. Under the stars, on the sand by the water, she builds a fire. We wrap towels around our most sensitive parts to protect them from sparks. I present her with the coffee and set water to boil. She's brought wafers, chocolate, it's understood in her grin as she hands them to me that I am to do the cooking. While I concoct gooey s'mores, she drops her towel and wanders naked into the surf, just up to her knees.

I watch her wash her legs, already wet from our lovemaking, and stretch her arms to let the breeze dry under her arms and breasts. When she realizes I'm watching, she grins and starts dancing in the water--probably that thing from Swan Lake, though her gestures seem exaggerated. The planet's twin moons illuminate her, gleaming off her hair, and I have never seen her so free.

The marshmallow is sticky, and the chocolate drips, so we end up having to clean one another off. Silly. Like kids. She's so relaxed, playful, a side of her I've never really seen before--she was serious even on New Earth so much of the time. I remember that she had a dog once, and think that I'd like to see her rolling in the dirt with a puppy, laughing while it licks her face.

She makes me lie down on the beach and runs her fingernails all over me, laughing when I'm ticklish and smiling when I start to get aroused. "Wash off first," she orders, pulling my sand-covered body up and toward the water. We start to pleasure each other in the surf, until she's standing with her hands braced on my shoulders and I'm kneeling in front of her, up to my chest in cool water, unable to distinguish between the scent of her and of the sea. When the waves get distracting, we end up lying on the beach, me beneath her, covered with sand.

It's much more intense this time, partly because we're not in a hurry, partly just because we've done it before. And it's more intense for me because she's on top, surrounding me, touching me with her hands and mouth--I'm glad we got it over with before, so that we could do this, slow, unselfconscious love where we're not afraid to experiment. She seems surprised when she comes in the midst of trying to drive me insane--then more surprised when I stop for a few minutes just to kiss her, and change positions, and make fierce love to her like a man possessed until I finish.

We go back in the water to clean each other off, but it's more than that--mostly we just want to touch. Under the moons, with her wrapped in my arms, I start to say the forbidden words to her again, but she silences me with a kiss. We don't talk when we collect our towels and go back inside the tent to curl up together, naked and sticky, on top of the sleeping bags. I stroke her hair until she's asleep, and keep stroking it until my hand's too heavy to move.

****

"Chakotay."

I feel a hand touch my face.

"Wake up. The sun's going to rise in a few minutes."

My eyes open to hers, inches from my own. Sometimes I forget how beautiful she is, how dark the blue of her eyes, the tiny freckles across her nose, the dip in her hairline, the strength of her jaw. I pull her down to me and kiss her, rolling over on top of her, my morning erection prodding her thigh. She laughs saucily and offers me her throat, wiggling her hips against me. Neither one of us is really ready and we're both a little sore, but we fool around for a long time, giggling when we make one another groan.

She's brought strawberries for breakfast, which we feed to each other as we watch the sun come up, leaving trails of juice on the skin to be licked and sucked. "No hickies," she warns me, and I realize that we have only a short time left before all the trappings of her role must return. There's less to talk about than I expected. Oh, there are many subjects I could bring up, from the Academy to religion to what the Cardassians did to our fathers. But I find that I don't need to ask about any of those things. There's really only one question burning its way to my vocal cords, giving me a lump in my throat, and I finally blurt it out.

"If we got home, would you marry me?"

I feel a charge like electricity go through her body, the moment before she stiffens and edges forward as if she'll pull away. She doesn't meet my eyes.

"I can't answer that question."

"Yes, you can. Just tell me what you'd say, if we were home, right now."

"Voyager..."

"That won't be an excuse anymore."

"What about the Maquis, would you stay in Starfleet..."

"We don't know about the Maquis. Or the Federation. Or Mark. There are always going to be some problems, Kathryn. If getting home wasn't your primary purpose in life, would they matter? It's a hypothetical, not a proposal."

"It's a lot of hypotheticals."

"Just one. One question."

"That's not fair."

Whispered. Though I can't see her face, I think she has tears in her eyes. Some gesture seems to be called for, so I stick with one of the oldest; I move around her, scoot forward on one knee, taking one of her hands and pressing it with both of mine to my chest.

"Will you marry me?" I ask. Not worded as hypothetical this time, a far greater risk. Both of us suspended at the edge of cliffs, with the chasm beneath us, and no choice but to turn away from the other to safety or take the leap across.

She's biting her lip hard enough to draw blood, trying not to answer. I know which costs she's weighing. She thinks it's me against the rest of the crew, she won't see that it's herself she's thinking of sacrificing. I ache for her and myself both. Finally she swallows and looks right at me.

"I can't say yes right now, but I won't say no. Is that good enough?"

"Yes."

My heart is soaring. I kiss her forehead so she can't see my face, or the tears in my eyes.

Her comm badge chirps once from her pack while we're still holding each other in the sand. "That's my cue," she says, muffled. "I asked Tuvok to signal me fifteen minutes before I was due back." We separate with a kiss. I don't watch her get dressed. Instead I put on my swim trunks and wander into the surf.

"See you tomorrow," she says.

I don't tell her that I'm planning to beam back tonight--that I can't bear the thought of another evening, here, without her. I kiss her goodbye on the cheek, quickly. We're both smiling when the transporter beam takes her, but the smiles are sad.

****

I spend the afternoon swimming, hiking, and in meditation, and go back to the ship at dusk. I don't report in. I'm still on leave. I lock myself in my quarters, order the computer no interruptions, and sleep so deeply that I can't remember my dreams.

She's finishing her bridge shift when I arrive. The timing had to work that way-- she hasn't slept for a full day, in all likelihood. I smile blandly at her, and she returns it.

"I suggest we meet at eleven hundred hours tomorrow, Commander. I want to go over some of the data we received from the Aukanians about upcoming systems along our route."

"Yes, Captain." She rises to exit and hands me a padd. It's data on our departure, and a note: "Thanks for the coffee."

I don't speak to her again until the next morning. It's easier than I expect. I know where she is, what she's doing; we are so much a part of one another's lives already. Maybe it's greedy of me to want more of her.

When I enter her ready room, I can feel my body temperature rise, though I'm not as tense as I always assumed I'd be if she and I ever did what we've done and then tried to return to normal. It's just us, together, same as always. She brings up a chart on her desk monitor and we lean over it together, plotting courses, discussing options for making stops to refuel and trade.

"There's an M-class planet--there. Uninhabited, the Aukanians said, not many resources, but beautiful forests. About four months' travel time."

"And?"

She grins at me. "Maybe when we get there, we could go camping."

I return her smile. "I'd like that," I agree.


End file.
